


Twenty-five, Twenty-one

by lucyditty



Series: Stories for a Boy [2]
Category: Infinite (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drinking, Jaurim, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Nostolgia's a Bitch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-24 04:01:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13802976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucyditty/pseuds/lucyditty
Summary: I thought it would last forever, the you and me from that time...





	Twenty-five, Twenty-one

**Author's Note:**

> Things to note:  
> *Asian flush is a thing.  
> **Korea does not recognize Conscientious Objection

The first person Kim Sunggyu sees after his military discharge is Lee Sungjong. Bright eyed and baby faced, seeing Sungjong in his long-coat and ripped jeans, leaning against the door of his old, secondhand car, makes Sunggyu question whether two years have really passed. But something about the way Sungjong smiles, lips pulled back into a gasping laugh, and the angle of the late autumn sun seemed to display a startling image of the passage of time. There is an itching at the back of Sunggyu’s head but he has decided to ignore it.

“Yah, Lee Sungjong,” Sunggyu shouts to the boy – _man_ – from the other end of the train station parking lot. “Have you become so arrogant in the last twenty-one months that you can’t greet your hyung anymore? Only laugh?”

“Sorry, sorry, hyung,” Sungjong chimes. Pushing himself off the car and rushing over in haste, he takes the large duffle bags from Sunggyu’s hands and leads them to the trunk. “It’s just…”

Sunggyu raises a brow as he places his belongings into the back of the car.

“What?” Sunggyu narrows his eyes.

Sungjong gives a close-lipped smile and inspects the back of Sunggyu’s head. Sunggyu’s breath hitches at the touch.

“Woohyun-hyung was right. You do have a funny shaped head.”

Sungjong barely has any time to avoid the punch to his gut as Sunggyu mutters a curse about ‘mannerless kid’ or something of the other. Sungjong only giggles through the slight pain at the familiar scene and, suddenly, it feels like a time they had both been before.

“What’s this?” Sunggyu asks.

Sungjong slides into the driver’s seat and looks to the tumbler Sunggyu holds up in his hands.

“I got hyung a lightly iced Americano,” Sungjong responds.

“You went to _Sonak_ Café?”

Sungjong only smiles as he lifts his own tumbler. When he sips, Sunggyu can’t help but internally smile at the smell of chamomile tea and roasted coffee fills the car. It feels familiar. And Sunggyu represses an urge to reach out a hand to the other.

When Sungjong asks if he wanted to go to his parent’s home in Gangbuk-gu or Sunggyu’s apartment, Sunggyu only made a sound of agreement at one of the options. Sungjong nods in response and begins taking the streets towards Mapo-gu. 

The silence of the ride is filled with blaring of static and snippets of electronic instrumentation from the same five pop songs. Sunggyu reaches over to fiddle with the radio dials. His brows furrow at the unfamiliar melodies and commercial jingles till the car stereos fill with the throaty texture of a woman’s voice. It isn’t his favorite, but Sunggyu knows it and likes it enough to lean back and nod his head to the beat.  

“Oh.” Sungjong gives an excited smile. “Hyung’s style, Hyung’s style.”

“So, they still play this song.” Sunggyu comments.

They pause at a particularly long red light.

“Hyung knows it?”

“I’ve played it for you before!”

“Really?”

Sungjong gives a thoughtful look, his head tilting as he tries to listen. There’s a strumming of an acoustic guitar and synth strings, the hit of a symbol matching perfectly with the turn of the green light.

“Wait till the chorus comes up again,” Sunggyu says. “I’m sure you know it.”

But they’ve caught the end and the song fades away to something else – a tune that Sunggyu doesn't recognize.

“Ah, well I definitely played it for you before,” Sunggyu insists.

Sungjong only chuckles and begins humming along to the new song.

Sunggyu gives a peer over to the driver’s seat and lifts his tumbler. As soon as the sip reaches his lips, he gives an offended expression and clicks his tongue a few times before placing it back into the cup holder. There is something off about the taste, an unusual bitterness he cannot describe, but when he asks Sungjong whether he forgot to put the correct amount of sugar, he responds with a negative. Sunggyu makes a quip about Sungjong lying, but in his mind simply looks out the window and thinks that he just isn’t in the mood for coffee.

By the time they had found Sunggyu’s old parking space in the garage beneath his apartment building, Sungjong has finished his drink, twelve unknown (but catchy) songs have played, and Sunggyu’s americano has been left almost entirely untouched.

“I came by last week to dust the apartment, but I’ve been busy with some interviews and tests so don’t throw a fit if its still a bit messy.”

Sungjong unlocks the front door before returning the key to Sunggyu. He sheds his shoes at the front and considers the weight of metal he hasn’t felt in over twenty months.

“I’m going to put your things into the bedroom,” Sungjong says. He makes his way deeper into the apartment.

Sunggyu sees that Sungjong has already shed his coat and placed it on the arm of his leather couch, a stack of old business magazines sitting on the glass coffee table. It takes Sunggyu a moment to take it all in. How the position of every picture frame and piece of furniture seemed to be in the exact place he had left it, undisturbed and untouched by time, as if it had not been abandoned and empty for two years. His eyes roam over the designs of his rug and onto the embroidery of the drapes. And Sunggyu wonders if his apartment has always smelled like Sapele.

“Do you want me to turn up the heat, hyung?” Sungjong appears from the bedroom with a small smile, his lips pink and dark hair tussled for no apparent reason. “You haven’t taken off your jacket. Are you cold?”

When Sunggyu doesn’t answer, Sungjong only shakes his head, like he’s dealing with an unruly child, before crossing the distance of the living room to the thermostat.

Sunggyu can only blink as he suddenly notices the exposed mole on the younger man’s nose – a mole that Sunggyu distinctly remembers Sungjong would conceal beneath bb cream and makeup. And an inadvertent realization comes upon him as he recalls that in all his memories of the young man, it is of him with his mole; only because in his memories of the boy, Sungjong is breathless and bare and…

“Is this too warm or-,”

A firm hand finds its way around Sungjong’s slim waist; a nose nuzzles into the back of his hair, and lips press into the shell of his ear. He stiffens.

“Hyung…”

Sunggyu understands at a fundamental level what his actions insinuate, but there is a very sweet scent of lilies along with the very comforting idea that Sungjong still uses the same convenient store shampoo, and in that moment, Sunggyu honestly couldn’t care less. He exhales only to feel the younger man shudder in his arms. Sungjong shifts uncomfortably in the hold as Sunggyu traces the tip of his nose down the curve of his head and into the crook of his neck, feathered breaths tickling against flushing skin. He kisses a bump of the spine.

Sungjong steps out of the hold and Sunggyu is filled with a feeling of momentary panic. His fingers tense and arms feel heavy. But in the seconds that follow, Sungjong doesn’t move away when Sunggyu asks for him to turn his way. Sungjong does it slowly. Eyes glassy and bottom lip between teeth, he stays, and Sunggyu steps closer.

He leans down, places a kiss in dip above the clavicle, and hears Sungjong’s breathing become shallow. When Sungjong does not move, he breathes a trail up, sucks at the tender flesh below the jaw, and feels Sungjong’s breath hitch. When, still, Sungjong stays, he bites. And watches the young man come undone.

Sungjong threw no qualms when he is pushed into the wall, a leg roughly lifted to Sunggyu’s waist. He leaves a trail of hungry kisses along the younger man’s jaw till impatient teeth are nibbling at his bottom lip. Sunggyu is kissing him, sucking at swollen flesh, and Sunggyu recalls a time when he once had to tilt his chin down for their lips to meet – now the two can be face-to-face. This detail distracts him momentarily, but not for long once Sunggyu is forced out of his thoughts at the feeling of Sungjong’s tongue running along his teeth. Their lips shift over one another, familiar. There’s electricity. They’ve done this dance before.

There is something so inherently tender yet fierce in the way they move, how their teeth will graze against tender skin but suck the exact spot so gently. Sunggyu gasps when he feels a hand find its way under his shirt and fingers skim across the skin just above his waistband. The sensation sends a shiver down his spine; he doesn’t even register when they’ve entered the bedroom.

“Still cold, hyung?” Sungjong mumbles into his neck, slender finders moving dangerously low.

Sunggyu means to make _tsk_ but his breath gets caught in his throat when Sungjong runs a hand along the inner seems of his pants. Sungjong gives him a defiant stare and, suddenly, everything feels just too tight.

The words in his mind are in a mess, so Sunggyu settles to wipe the smug grin off of the younger man’s face with lips pressed to throat and a hard suck. Sungjong whimpers, then gasps, as he is pushed down onto the bed, sheets wrinkling under his weight.

Sunggyu has a bit of difficulty shoving his own jacket and shirt off his arms, but Sungjong is still panting with swollen lips when Sunggyu is able to climb atop him. His breathing only becoming more haggard as Sunggyu works to undo the buttons on his shirt between kisses.

Sunggyu dips down and he is planting another trail of kisses and nips from the young man’s newly exposed chest down to his navel. Soft and smooth, Sungjong sung fingers over Sunggyu’s scalp and lets out a strangled gasp when Sunggyu breaths a hot breath above his waistband. Sunggyu begins to slowly peel the denim and briefs away and lets them fall to the floor.

While he had been feeling the arousal for a while, seeing the younger man's lips parted and body bare before him sent a thrill of exhilaration he had nearly forgotten. Firmly grabbing behind the young man’s legs, Sunggyu slowly trails his tongue up the inside of his thighs. He smirks at the breathy whimpers Sungjong releases as he flicks his tongue just a breath short of where he knows the younger wants it. Sungjong trusts up.

“Yah, Lee Sungjong,” Sunggyu hisses and slaps the inside of Sungjong’s thigh.

Sungjong gives a breathy laugh and peers down at the older man.

“It’s been nearly two years and you want to take things slow?” The younger man says. “Do you want to wait for a third?”

Sunggyu wants to respond that _yes,_ he wants to take it slow. Ravish every dip and curve and valley of each other’s bodies. Kiss slowly, fuck slowly for once. But he supposes that’s not how they were.

This time, Sunggyu is able to _tsk_ as he presses his palm against the younger man’s erection. Sungjong has a sharp intake of breath as his head falls back onto the bed, eyes shut.

“You really have grown arrogant without me,” Sunggyu says with a chuckle.

And when his hand reaches up to trace the line of growing red marks along Sungjong’s body, Sunggyu suddenly finds his back pressed into the wrinkled sheets, and Sungjong straddles his waist with a feline smirk.

“Then do you want to try and take me down a notch?” Sungjong asks in mischief. Leaning down, his teeth graze the flesh of an ear. “Hyung?”

Sunggyu can feel it, how deliberately Sungjong moves his body over him. Ass just barely sliding over his now painfully erect member.

With precision and an effectiveness he had acquired from military training, it doesn’t take Sunggyu much effort to knock Sungjong off him. Sungjong now with face pressed into the pillows, Sunggyu presses into him with a firm grip on the younger man’s hips. Sunggyu gives a playful thrust of his own, pushing his own erection between soft thighs. His hand snakes around and under the younger man and wraps around his hardness, and Sungjong bites down hard on his inner cheek so not to give the embarrassingly high-pitched moan he knows Sunggyu is looking for.

“Don’t test your hyung.”

There is a look in Sungjong’s eyes as he manages to give one more defiant smirk.

“What if I said I like _testing_?”

Sunggyu frowns and wants to call BS, but Sungjong wastes no time to shift them once again. And when the younger’s hot mouth is taking him all in, Sunggyu can only manage a strangled, guttural moan. Eyes shut, he is too far gone to utter another coherent word.

 

 

Sunggyu exits the bathroom in a cloud of steam and clothes he hasn’t worn in years. He sniffs himself, wondering if they had been washed at all during his absence.

He takes a seat at the edge of his bed. Afternoon sun trickling in, a sliver of light drapes over Sungjong’s sleeping figure. Lips parted and a gentle snore, Sungjong is wrapped in his sheets with his arms wrapped around a pillow. Running his fingers along his cheek, Sunggyu traces a thumb over the younger’s exposed mole and wipes damp hair from his brow. While Sunggyu has always wanted to wash off all the sweat and stickiness, Sungjong didn’t mind as much and preferred to sleep after sex.

Sunggyu lets a tender smile slip at the comfort.

He was about to begin unpacking his things when there was a buzzing coming from somewhere outside the bedroom. It took a moment, but Sunggyu eventually finds that it's the phone tucking in one of the pockets of Sungjong’s long coat.

Turning on the lock screen, he notices the newness of the screen and wonders what had happened to his old model. And while the passcode had been the same, Sunggyu tries to push away the sudden feeling of guilt when the home screen appears.

There are a few missed calls, an icon notifying messages left in the mailbox at the top corner. Sunggyu looks to the door of his bedroom and hears comforting sounds of slumber. He knows he shouldn’t, knows he has no right. Yet still…

Phone pressed to ear, he heard the _beep_ of the voicemail number dialing.

- _You have five unheard messages._ -

“Hey, Lee Sungjong-ah, did you pick up Sunggyu-hyung yet?” Sunggyu heard Woohyun’s familiar voice through the static. “I told you to text me when you did.”

Sunggyu isn’t entirely sure what he had expected, but he lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding.

- _End of message. To delete  this message, press ‘7’. To save, press ‘8’. To continue to next message, press ‘9’._ -

Sunggyu removes the phone from his ear to press ‘9’.

“Yah, brat. Is your phone on silent again?” Woohyun’s voice fills the entirety of the second message. And Sunggyu finds himself lightly laughing at the irritation in the younger man’s voice.

- _End of message._ -

Sunggyu is about to press the key pad again but pauses. Thumb hovering steady over the ‘9’, he feels ridiculous. Sungjong is still lightly snoring just beyond his bedroom doors and Sunggyu realizes just how invasive his behavior is.

Shaking his head, ready to put the phone back down, Sungjong’s phone receives an incoming call. Sunggyu doesn’t recognize the number, but by the clear name and caller picture that appears along with it, Sunggyu is hit by the sinking sensation that Sungjong does.

Sunggyu knows that it’s a complete breach of privacy to accept the call without Sungjong’s knowledge.

“Jjong-ah!” Sunggyu frowns at the nickname. The voice received at the other end is deep and smooth, different that Sunggyu’s slight nasal tone. “Did you get my messages-,”

“He’s asleep.”

Sunggyu wasn’t too sure where the hostility in his voice had come from. A voice of reason at the back of his mind told him that there were many things wrong with this situation, but Sunggyu seemed to be ignoring that a lot.

“Oh.” The voice at the other end seems shocked, perhaps from the realization that the person answering was not the person he had called. Sunggyu hears him mutter a, “At 2 o’ clock?”

The man at the other end had probably not intended for Sunggyu to hear the comment. He responds anyway.

“He’s tired.”

“Oh, well,” the man on the other end clears his throat and laughs uncomfortably. Sunggyu frowns and wonders if this man is aware of Sungjong’s after-sex habit. “I guess I’ll just call him back later. May I know who this is?”

He gives a purposeful pause.

“A friend.”

“Ah, well,” the man on the other end says with a bit of reluctance, “I guess… let Sungjong know Dongwoo-hyung called.”

“Sure.”

The line goes dead and Sunggyu is left with a bitter taste in his mouth. He tosses the phone onto the couch and glares. He doesn’t know how long he stares at it when Sungjong comes out from the bedroom, sleep still in his eyes. He’s thrown on his briefs and one of Sunggyu’s clean (he assumes) shirts.

“What’s with that serious expression, hyung?”

Sungjong sounds concerned but Sunggyu shrugs off the hand placed affectionately on his shoulder.

“Call Woohyun,” Sunggyu says, “tell him we should all go out drinking tonight.”

Sungjong looks as though he wants to ask something, perhaps press to ask if anything was wrong, but Sunggyu only shoves his way back into his bedroom and begins unpacking his things. In the background, he hears Sungjong sigh and begin speaking on the phone with an exasperated Woohyun.

 

 

“Oh, oh, oh! Look at who decided to finally show up.” Woohyun’s already booming voice was only amplified by the mic and speakers he spoke in to. “The guest of honor himself. What took you bastards so long?”

He grins under strobes that pulse in the small room. Standing on top of plush cushions and body rolling ridiculously to the rhythm of a song popular when they were in high school, it’s evident that the man is at least a couple of drinks in.

“Blame the prima donna,” Sunggyu tries to shout over the music but he isn’t sure how far his voice travels.

For certain at least Sungjong hears (if his rolling eyes were any indication). But it quickly doesn’t matter as Woohyun goes back to belting out notes into his mic without a care in the world. As the two step into the room and close the door behind them, Sunggyu has to squint, but takes notice of familiar faces.

He recognizes the dark figure sitting at the edge of the couch as Kim Myungsoo, eyes too fixated on the lyrics on the LED screen to have noticed their arrival. Beside him, Lee Howon gives him a smile while lifting a hand in awkward salute. Sunggyu can also easily pick out the tall, gangly frame of Sungjong’s loud-mouthed cousin standing in the corner. His long arms are waving about a tambourine with the only person in the room that Sunggyu doesn’t know.

Looking like a dwarf next to Lee Sungyeol, the only thing immediately noticeable about the man are the tones of muscle accentuated by the shadows and lights. The way in which he seemed to be widely moving his body about to the beat of the music made just looking at the man exhausting.

When Sungjong steps further into the room and sheds his coat, the unknown man wastes no time in gliding to the younger and picking him up in a tight hug.

“Jjong-ie!” Sunggyu can hear the jovial man scream and there is that same sinking feeling.

Sunggyu shifts awkwardly as he takes off his own coat and receives a drink that Howon passes him. His eyes don’t leave the exchange between Sungjong and the mystery man.

“Hyung!” Sungjong turns and waves a hand to Sunggyu. He drags the shorter man over to him and the recognition kicks in. “This is Dongwoo-hyung.”

That bitter taste returns - Sunggyu will blame the alcohol.

“Dongwoo-hyung, this is Sunggyu-hyung.”

Sunggyu’s eyes have finally adjusted to the dimness of the room and he can finally make out the features of the unknown man’s – Dongwoo’s – face. The first thing he notes are the large lips.

“Oh, oh! The Gyu-hyung who just came back from enlistment,” Sunggyu hears the man shout over the blaring music. He’s sure there are other words coming from the man’s massive lips, but they get drowned out and half of the things that filter through make no sense.

In the end, a simple nod is all it takes to placate the man into leaving him be and he returns to dancing about with Sungyeol. Sungjong takes a seat beside Sunggyu and accepts a glass of water from Howon.

“You’re not drinking?” Sunggyu shouts in the younger man’s ear.

Sungjong says something, but Sunggyu doesn’t catch it the first time. Or the second, or third. Frustrated, Sungjong yanks down on his ear.

“I. Don’t. Drink. Any. More.” He shouts ever words with a heaving breath before letting Sunggyu go.

Sunggyu is surprised by this new information and wants to ask why and other questions, but Sungjong doesn’t seem to find it too big of a deal and starts happily clapping to the beat of the music. Sipping thoughtfully on his glass of water, Sunggyu can’t help but frown further when he sees the young man smile at the ridiculous movements Dongwoo is making.

It’s twelve bottles of _soju_ and a _makkeolli_ later when Woohyun slumps down onto the seat beside Sunggyu. His arm slumps over Sunggyu’s shoulder as he pulls the older man close.

“Yah, grandpa-gyu, sing a song with me,” Woohyun slurs next to his ear. “This party is for you and you haven’t touched the mic once.”

Sunggyu can feel his flush burning against his neck, but a look in the direction of Sungjong, who is conversing excitedly with Dongwoo on the other side of the room, makes him feel much soberer than he probably was. The hand placed dangerously low on Sungjong’s back did not help. The large lipped man was uncomfortably touchy when drunk.

“I’m out of practice,” Sunggyu says lamely.

“Load of bull! We’re all friends here,” Woohyun chortles. “Maknae, pass the song book.”

Sungjong turns – begrudgingly – at the sound of his old, hated nickname. With a huff, he hands Woohyun the booklet.

“I’ll sing anything you want, choose whatever you want,” Woohyun presses. “Make it as lovey-dovey as you want!”

Sunggyu feels two wet and clumsy lips pressing into his cheek. He makes an irritated groan and half-hearted smile, shoving the younger man away, Woohyun laughing in his drunken swagger. His eyes skim over the song titles and numbers, flipping through the pages without much thought. His eyes wander up to find Sungjong sitting on his own.

The colors of the strobes light up his hair and accentuate the raised features of his face. Lips pulled back into a smile, that bitter taste settled in his mouth when Sungjong accepted another glass of water from the newer addition to their friend group. Busying himself with the song book, he turned the pages.

“Hurry it up old man,” Woohyun whines.

Sunggyu looks over a particular page, his eyes drawn to one particular song.

“You know this one?” Sunggyu questions.

Woohyun squints for while before responding.

“Only the chorus but it’s fine.”

He motions for Myungsoo to hand him the remote – which the man fumbles with – and began typing a string of numbers. Sunggyu stood and adjusts the mic in his hands, watching as the name of the song appeared on screen. Woohyun was already yelling excitedly into the mic before the countdown even began.

Sunggyu chances a glance at Sungjong. The young man was smiling at him and clapping, chanting “Sung-Gyu-Hyung” along with Sungyeol. Sunggyu gave a cocky smirk and tried to ignore the goofy smile and strange hand signs Dongwoo was giving him.

When the first note of a piano played, Sunggyu lifts the mic to his lips and takes a deep breath. When the lyrics appear, he starts to sing, his voice was the only one filling the room. Even as drums and guitars and the swell of synthetic strings made up the background music. Sunggyu could hear Woohyun come in sometimes to harmonize during the chorus, but for all intents and purposes, it was Sunggyu’s voice that echoed and resonated.

And perhaps it was because he was too drunk, but he imagined that it was only him in that room singing his heart out. Lacing notes with all the pain and resigned heartbreak the lyrics described. Every belt of ‘oh’s and ‘ah’s being sung with same intensity as the wailing guitar. Just him, the heartbreak.

The final notes of the song play with a fading of synthetic strings. And when Sunggyu opens his eyes, his gaze unconsciously moves to the only person sober enough to notice.

 

 

“Are you sure you can get him back okay?”

Sunggyu stands awkwardly at the edge of the road as Sungjong was busy calling cabs for his inebriated friends.

“No worries Jjong-ie,” Dongwoo gave a jovial laugh as he leans a passed out Woohyun against his body. If Sunggyu didn’t find it so irritating, he may have found the large lipped man’s laugh endearing and infectious.

“Okay,” Sungjong says with a nod. “I’ll message you in the morning.”

Sunggyu didn’t like the bitter taste in his mouth.

Dongwoo nodded emphatically before the door shut and the cab drove off.

“Sorry you had to wait, hung,” Sungjong says, turning back to face him. “I’ll call you one now.”

Sunggyu nods and wraps his coat tighter around himself. It was well past midnight and the boom of the karaoke bar behind them drummed painfully against his skull. He was sure to have a hangover in the morning.

When the cab came, Sunggyu stepped in and slid to the other end of back seat.

“Drive along the Han river, I’ll tell you where to stop,” Sunggyu tells the driver.

“You’re not going home?” Sungjong asks.

“You’re coming with me.”

“I told my parents I’d be home by-,”

“You’re coming with me.”

Sungjong sticks his head into the door frame, his expression is bewildered. Sunggyu looks at the younger man and the command is resolute. With a sigh, Sungjong steps into the cab and shuts the door.

During the ride they don’t talk. Sunggyu rests his head against the back seat as he gazes out the window at passing cars and neon lights. The reflection of Sungjong shows the younger staring straight ahead.

Sunggyu tells the driver to drop them off in front of a lone street vendor and pays him for the ride. The chill of an autumn night greets them when they step out, Sunggyu heading directly for the vendor. They’re selling _jokbal_. 

“Why are we here, hyung?”

They’re more expensive than he remembers but he’s still reveling in the pleasant warmth of his buzz to care. He exchanges bills for a white Styrofoam tray with only a hiss under his breath.

“Hyung.”

Sungjong’s voice is growing impatient as he wraps his coat tighter around his body. Sunggyu doesn’t respond and finds a dry bench overlooking the lights in the water. Sungjong calls out to him again but he only holds the tray out to him.

“What?” Sunggyu asks with a raised brow. Sungjong stares back with a pout. Sunggyu finds it oddly cute. “Do you not eat pig’s feet anymore either?”

Sunggyu had meant for the words to sound more playful, but the spite had come out naturally (again he’ll blame the alcohol). Sungjong sighs and take a slice from the tray. He takes a seat beside Sunggyu, not looking at the older man as he nibbles on his trotter.

They sit for a moment in pure silence, just staring out to the water and listening to cars pass behind them, before going into light conversation about nothing in particular. They make comments about passing couples or teenagers fooling around at the bank. The atmosphere is hallow, but Sunggyu feels like he misses moments like these the most. 

“How have you been, hyung? I feel like we’ve done your first day back all backwards.” Sungjong suddenly asks. His lips pull back into a rueful smile that Sunggyu isn’t used to. “We always seem to be like that.”

Sunggyu swallows the bite he had been chewing.

“It’s fine.” Sunggyu says. “I don't know if there's much for me to say. Enlistment was kind of shit but not all bad. Nothing to write home about.”

Sungjong nods.

“Is that why you didn’t?”

Sunggyu pauses in his chewing. He looks to the younger man. He isn’t looking at him, eyes turned to ripples of lights in the water. 

“You could have visited.” Sunggyu sighs. “Woohyun told me offered to bring you every time he came.”

He hears a vague whisper of ‘ _you know why I couldn’t_ ’ but he doesn’t want to acknowledge it, his buzz not strong enough to calm his growing nerves. 

“Why didn’t you use any of the vacation days you accumulated?” Sungjong wasn’t shouting, but the edge in his voice held a gruffness that Sunggyu didn’t recognize. “Or at least come home for _chuseok_.”

“Because I was scared I wouldn’t go back.” He spoke the answer simply. Sungjong seemed to soften a bit at the answer. Satisfied with the result he added, “I was scared I might try and dodge.”

“Like me?”

The softness in Sungjong’s eyes disappeared and Sunggyu realizes too late his mistake.

“No, Sungjong, god…” Sunggyu pinched the bridge of his nose and hunched to rest on his knees. The _jokbal_ in his hands looking infinitely less appetizing. He wonders for a second if they had ever been this quick to fall into argument. “Your political-religious views are yours and-,”

“No, stop.” Sungjong crosses his arms. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I’m not drunk enough for this.”

Sunggyu wants to point out that he isn’t drunk at all but holds his tongue. He stares at the younger, eyes flickering the reflection of the lights in the water. Sunggyu is reminded of the karaoke room and how Sungjong’s face lit up when Dongwoo had handed him a glass of water.

Sunggyu takes his hand. He half-expects the younger to pull away but he only turns to look at him. Sunggyu runs a thumb over the back of the younger’s hand and lifts it to place a gentle kiss on his knuckles. Had he been less buzzed, he would have realized this is the most intimate they’d been in public.

Something unreadable passes over the Sungjong's eyes. 

“You were right.”

The words come out in barely a whisper, Sunggyu thinks he hasn’t heard right and asks Sungjong to repeat himself.

“You were right,” Sungjong says again, louder. Sunggyu is confused. “You did play that song for me before.”

Sunggyu blinks.

“I don’t remember where or when but I remember that you did.” He continues. His eyes are distant as they look out to the water. He laughs and gives that rueful smile again. “Why is it that hyung always listens to such sad songs?”

There are many answers that Sunggyu wants to give, but knows none of them really answer the question. Sunggyu isn’t even sure if Sungjong expects an answer.

The silence stretches and Sunggyu continues to rub – what he hopes are – soothing circles into the back of the younger’s palm. Sungjong doesn’t look at him, his breaths leaving parted lips in chilled clouds. Sunggyu wants to turn his chin and kiss them but he feels the effects of the alcohol fading. The night isn’t getting younger.

“Come home with me.”

“I’m leaving Korea.”

They speak at the same time. Words overlapping, Sunggyu is suddenly too sober.

“Oh.” One of them says. Sunggyu can’t recognize the shake in his voice.

 _Silence_.

“When?”

“End of the month.”

Sunggyu nods slowly. He retracts his hands into his lap and leans back into the bench. He wants to ask where and for how long, but he feels knowing the answer won’t give him anything he doesn’t already know.

“Did I ever tell you why I enlisted in February?” Sunggyu offers instead.

“To avoid seeing my parents at my graduation?”

The bitter bite in Sungjong’s words stings, but he knows there is unspoken tension that needs release and words are the only outlet the younger has.

“I did it so I would only have to spend one winter in the army.” Sunggyu says. He tilts his head back to look at the dark sky, the city lights having drowned out all the stars. “I had it all planned out and it seemed perfect.”

“Sounds like you,” Sungjong scoffs.

“I turned thirty in a military bunker,” Sunggyu continued, “but I wanted to watch the first snow with you.”

He turns to look at the younger, who in turn was looking back at him. His large eyes wide, like they could engulf the whole world. Or, at least, Sunggyu’s world.

“You once told me that, right?” Sunggyu searches his eyes. “That you wanted to watch the first snow, sitting in your living room wrapped in-,”

“-wrapped in blankets and drinking that brand of hot chocolate you hate – Yes, I said that. Geez, hyung!” Sungjong grits his teeth and shoves long fingers into his hair. For a moment, he turns his face away. “That was years ago.”

His eyes sting. Sunggyu notices the trembling in the younger’s hands and he wonders if Sungjong is also holding back tears. Maybe he is just cold.

“We can still…”

“Still what, hyung?” Sungjong asks. “You’re the one who never wanted to commit.”

Sungjong turns to Sunggyu. He knows the younger would never get physical, but the look he gives might as well have been a slap.

The words die in Sunggyu’s throat.

“I’m not twenty-five anymore.”

It’s a whisper, but the night is silent. He hears him. Sungjong of the past would have gotten teary eyed, but he doesn’t. 

“And I’m not twenty-one…” Sungjong says.

Sunggyu isn't sure why he decides that that is the appropriate time to lean in for a kiss, but he does. Their lips press together, and meet in a familiar dance. And he thinks that Sungjong tastes unusually bitter. 

 

 

Sunggyu meets Sungjong’s parents for the first time on the day of his departure. It’s the coldest day of the year but they’re a warm and happy couple, smiling and laughing with their son. Sunggyu wonders if they had always been like that.

Their other friends are there to see their maknae off. Dongwoo is there.

Though Sungjong had never been one for physical affection, he gives each of them a hug before escaping beyond the gate. And as they all watched him give one last wave, Sunggyu likes to believe that Sungjong had stayed in his arms just a fraction of second longer.

When Sunggyu returned to his apartment, he looks around at the familiar surroundings with a sense of emptiness. The afternoon sun trickled into his living room through a crack in the drapes. Taking a seat on the leather couch, he doesn’t bother to remove his coat before pulling out his phone and opening voicemail.

- _You have one saved message._ -

“Hyung?” Sungjong’s breathy voice comes through the static. “Did you see it? The snow came early this year. I was just at the campus pub and I felt like there was a draft so I rushed outside and there is was!”

Sunggyu smiled at the excitement in the younger’s voice. There’s a drunken slur in the way he talks but Sunggyu finds it a little endearing.

“Oh, wait. How are you, hyung? I feel like I should have started off with that…” Sungjong’s voice says. “I guess I really can’t do anything straight.”

Sunggyu chuckles at the lame joke.

“I… I miss you, hyung.” Sungjong sounds choked. “I know it’s selfish and cowardly of me to say it to you now… like this – but I do. I really miss you, hyung.

“Sometimes when I’m going to class or just eating out with everyone else, even if I’m surrounded by people I can’t help but feel and know you’re missing. That you’re not here. And I know where you are and Woohyun-hyung gives me updates but it isn’t the same.” Sunggyu wonders if Sungjong was crying at this point. He can hear Sungjong’s voice chuckle. “Woohyun-hyung… to think we would’ve never met if it weren’t for him. Before I met you, I never thought there was anyone who could make me go against my non-aggression beliefs more than him.

“But then you completely subverted my expectations. You weren’t a complete ass.”

He smiles despite himself.

“Remember that day? I was just dumped for the first time in my life and I got so wasted, I could barely remember my own name, much less your face. You didn’t have to but you held me and sang break-up songs while I sobbed my eyes out all night.” Something cuts in the background of the message, and Sunggyu wonders if Sungjong had stumbled a bit in his drunken stupor. “I never told you, but, when I woke up and Sungyeollie-hyung told me you had left… I can’t describe it. But despite it being the coldest fucking day of the year… and the that stupid nausea from the hangover…”

There’s a pause and Sunggyu can hear his even breathing.

“…I think that was when I fell for you. Ha! I fell for you, and you weren’t even there!” Sunggyu bites his lip. There is a stinging in his eyes. “It sounds so stupid, I didn’t want to tell you then because maybe it was just rebound. I just got brutally dumped and was just clinging to any form of kindness I could get my hands on.”

He can hear Sungjong’s haggard breathing and Sunggyu only then realizes that there are sounds of passing cars in background. He wonders if Sungjong made home safe that night.

“Hey, hyung?” Sunggyu’s breath hitches. He knows it’s a voice message, but he feels like the voice is too tangible. “That night, before your conscription, you said that distance only makes the heart grow fonder.”

Sunggyu notices a shadow falling along the sliver of light from the crack in his drapes. He gets up to stand by the window.

“Do you really believe that?”

It’s snowing.

“I guess I’ll get my answer in another year.” Sunggyu knows it’s the end, but he wishes it weren’t. “Anyways, I hope you’re well, hyung.”

- _End of message. To delete this message, press ‘7’. To continue to save, press ‘8’.-_

Kim Sunggyu stands alone in his empty apartment, filled with things that hadn’t changed in nearly two years, and stares out at the first snowfall. His thumb hovering over a number on the keypad.

He presses-

**Author's Note:**

> _sonak: hangul translation of the hanja 小樂 meaning happiness_   
>  _soju: an clear alcoholic beverage made from rice_   
>  _makkeolli: a sweet alcoholic beverage made from rice or wheat_   
>  _jokbal: pigs feet boiled in soy sauce_
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> Songs used for inspiration:  
> \- Twenty-five, Twenty-one by Jaurim  
> \- Like We Used To by The Rose  
> \- Heroine by Sunmi


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